


Friction

by sweetlolixo



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mafia & Assassin, M/M, Shameless PWP, tldr Aoi's just a defiant bitch who needs to be tamed by his hot mafia boss Uru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 08:54:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5961537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetlolixo/pseuds/sweetlolixo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoi's a highly skilled trained assassin, and Uruha's his mafia boss. Aoi's a bitch, and Uruha's an animal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friction

**Author's Note:**

> Fic originally posted onto LiveJournal [here](http://sweetlolixo.livejournal.com/205440.html) on June 01, 2014.

The high end of his six-inch boot heel collides with the sorry excuse of a face lying on the ground. The man’s already dead, from the three gunshots earlier, but Aoi’s absolutely precise in the way he crushes his heel right into the man’s eyes, repeatedly, until dark velvet blood is streaming out and they run down in the form of tear trails down his cheeks. Clad in a tight leather jacket and matching black pants, Aoi briefly raises a hand up in the air to check at his manicured nails, having done them a strikingly bold shade of blood-red the day before. He’s almost comparing the two – the blood on his nails and the blood running underneath his heels, wondering which shade is better, which shade is more well done. He comes to the conclusion that nothing beats the real shade of fresh blood.  
  
Low chuckles erupt from the man standing behind him, clothed in an expensive black suit, observing Aoi’s taste for the refined. They’re situated in a large, deserted warehouse, accompanied with a hundred of their men, now only reduced to half, after their job has been done for the day. They’ve come here with a sole mission: to wipe out the offending party’s men in a fight-to-death trial, in a bid to protect their business and legacy. Aoi wasn’t supposed to come, albeit being one of Takashima house’s most highly trained assassin, but Uruha had been adamant on not letting his lover involve himself in this mess; there was too much risk in Aoi getting potentially hurt. But Aoi thinks his boss lets his love cloud his judgment too much sometimes, and it annoys him just how much Uruha’s been babying him recently; when he was so ready to allow Aoi to undertake the most dangerous of tasks from before.  
  
“The man’s already dead, sweetheart,” Uruha coos, from behind Aoi, and he raises a hand himself, making a signal for the surrounding men to leave them and ready their car outside. It’s almost hard for Uruha to maneuver around the dead bodies lying around the warehouse to get near to Aoi, but when he does, it’s easier to see the unmistakable bloodlust in Aoi’s eyes as the assassin watches the result of his own creation. Aoi’s lifting another heel, tracing patterns on the dead man’s skin, painting words that slowly ooze out blood with every other cut.  
  
“He called me a bitch,” Aoi snaps his head to Uruha, his lips biting against each other sensually, his dark lined eyes giving Uruha a smoldering, anger-filled gaze. Uruha’s breathless when he looks to him, watching Aoi’s shoulder length black hair run loose and get pushed to the side, exposing the nape of his neck with the subtle evidence of dried blood stained against it. It’s a wonder how Aoi can look so _sexy_ murdering someone, and it’s with a hungry gaze himself that Uruha grabs for Aoi’s waist and slams him close to him, pulling him off the dead body Aoi’s suddenly so enamored by.  
  
“Well, he wasn’t exactly wrong,” Uruha breathes heavily against his lover’s neck, fingers moving up to trace dangerous patterns against Aoi’s own skin. Aoi resists for a moment, lifting his wrist up, trying to deflect Uruha – but Uruha’s too quick for him, and he stalls Aoi almost immediately, his bloodstained palms gripping roughly around the slighter man’s delicate and thin wrists, preventing Aoi from retaliating. Aoi’s shooting him an irksome look, eyebrows furrowing and mouth pursing angrily into a frown, but all Uruha does is laugh, eyes looking on fondly to how cute Aoi is acting.  
  
“Your reflexes are quick, but mine are quicker,” Uruha says, almost condescendingly, and it further irritates his favorite assassin. “Do you want me to prove it to you?”  
  
“You know I could damn well take you down in a fight,” Aoi curses, infuriated that his lover was back to teasing him again – something Uruha just simply loved to do far too often. Aoi shakes off Uruha’s grip on his wrists, and he’s holding back his hisses as he brings his hands back to himself. Uruha simply left marks on him far too often; it was almost a disgrace how easily the other man overpowered Aoi sometimes. What Aoi lacked in strength, he made up in agility and skill, and sometimes that was all that saved him during killing sprees such as these. It’s with another low chuckle that Uruha wraps a hand around Aoi’s waist and touches his cheek gently with the other, causing Aoi to look to him confusedly, a hint of rage still underlying his expression.  
  
“You’re surprisingly angry today,” Uruha runs his thumb down the side of Aoi’s face, ending just at the middle of his jaw. Aoi finds himself eyeing his lover suspiciously, but still slowly relaxes into his touches anyway. Aoi rarely trusted anyone, but he knew Uruha he could trust; he was certain the only one around here that wouldn’t ever hurt him was Uruha, who he was lucky had fallen in love with him the moment their paths crossed each other. Aoi was an individual assassin at first, working for no one but anyone who paid him, but then he’d been tasked by one of the enemies of the Takashima house’s to destroy Uruha and his men in a raid. It had been an easy task – or so Aoi thought, for the first few minutes or so, until it was clearly obvious that he was outnumbered and there was no way he was getting out of this fight alive.  
  
Aoi had been on the near verge of death – he’d underestimated the people he was dealing with – his face bloodied, a gunshot wound through his leg, his breathing extremely shallow; and he’d been lying on the ground, ready for Uruha’s men to take him out… when Uruha finally sauntered over to take a close look at him himself.  
  
_You’ve taken out almost half my men just on your own in fifteen minutes,_ Uruha had mused, and instead of looking upon the assassin with hatred, he’d looked fascinated and was quite taken with Aoi instead. _How about you work for me instead of dying an unhonourable death here?_  
  
_I work for no one_ , Aoi had snarled then, with what little life was left inside of him, his voice hoarse but his eyes still bright with burning, hateful flames. Uruha had smiled to him, clearly liking what he saw, then whispered to one of his men to take Aoi to be healed, because he was going to damn well convince Aoi to work for him, whether the assassin wanted to willingly or not.  
  
They’d started out on bad terms at first; but later on, when all their hatred and animosity was gone, and Aoi finally came to terms that Uruha wasn’t so bad of a boss as he had originally thought – Aoi eventually allowed Uruha to bring him to his bed, and push him gently against the sheets, lips drowning him further into an ecstasy of lewd moans and obscene cries.  
  
“I’m not angry,” Aoi turns his face, refusing to look at Uruha in a bid to annoy him. Uruha just sighs, knowing exactly what Aoi was doing. The assassin was just so childlike and predictable at times; and maybe it’s due to the fact that Aoi’s been so deprived of a childhood, having had a dark past full of hatred and revenge, that sometimes Aoi’s just so stubborn, so awfully demanding in the way he acts sometimes. But it’s a part that Uruha cherishes and loves, and it’s a part that makes Aoi so endearing to him. “ _You’re_ the one that’s angry, not me.”  
  
“No, I’m not,” Uruha looks to Aoi amusedly, admiring the beads of sweat that are still trickling slowly down the side of Aoi’s face, the assassin clearly having exhausted himself in this sweltering hot warehouse killing at least a third of the men here. “You know I’m never angry. Not at you, anyway. Why are you angry with me?”  
  
Aoi huffs obstinately in response, crossing his arms, and as he steps away from Uruha crossedly, the noises of his high-heeled boots clicking against the concrete ground resounded loudly in the dead silence. Aoi steps over the mass of dead bodies lying on the ground, occasionally poking his heels viciously into some of them, kicking them out of his way as he sashays his way out of the main entrance. Uruha just smiles, watching his lover make his grand exit, and follows after him, wondering just how he was going to have to deal with him later today.  
  
~  
  
Aoi’s in the midst of tossing his leather jacket against the silken sheets of their king sized bed when Uruha enters their bedroom after him, having just arrived back at their mansion after a night of drinks and celebrating. Aoi’s had to endure watching drunk men make a fool of themselves, one after another, and it’s taken all of him not to whip his gun out and finish off the rest of Uruha’s men, though Uruha’s murderous glares to him helped resist those thoughts just a little. It wasn’t like Aoi had anything against them; it just pissed Aoi off that he had to waste time after their usual fight-offs to go to a club and celebrate over things that weren’t worth celebrating anyway. _It’s all customary,_ Uruha had said, trying to pacify the assassin, but Aoi didn’t bat an eyelid. _You have to reward them, and then they’ll be more than happy to work for you again._  
  
Aoi reaches a hand inside the back of his jeans, furiously pulling out his bloodied gun and dumps it onto the top of the drawers next to the bed. He’s reaching for the ends of his shirt, pulling it over him effortlessly, revealing his pale skin and slim waist, and Aoi _shouldn’t_ look so seductive just taking off a shirt, but Uruha’s instantly transfixed to the sight of his lover undressing himself, his eyes never leaving his body. Aoi doesn’t notice the sudden attention, just throws his shirt onto the ground disgruntledly, cursing at how the shirt’s now ruined by all the blood and how he now needs a new one. He’s turning to the closet, throwing the doors open and rummaging through it for new clothes to change into, but then Uruha appears by his side in an instant, and slams shut the closet doors, his eyes lustfully gazing towards his lover.  
  
Aoi cocks up an eyebrow, as if challenging Uruha to take what he wants, but his smug demeanor is gone in a second when Uruha pushes him right back against the closet doors, lips starvingly claiming Aoi’s one as his. His tongue slips inside of Aoi’s mouth without warning, hands desperately raking up Aoi’s hair, and Aoi can tell immediately his boss is in the mood for some violent, hardcore sex. Aoi’s a bitch, though, and as he returns a kiss or two to the taller man, Uruha loosens his grip against his lover, and it gives Aoi the opportunity to slip under and escape from his grasp. Uruha’s look is ferocious when their lips part and he’s left kissing the air.  
  
“Aoi!”  
  
“I’m not in the mood tonight,” Aoi says as a matter-of-factly, turning his back on him. “I need to get my clothes from the closet for a shower. Can you move?” _Ugh_ , Uruha loves his pretty little assassin to death, sure, but he can be absolutely infuriating at times like these. He knows Aoi’s lying through his teeth; Aoi wants this just as badly as he does – he just loves to tease Uruha at moments like these, when Uruha’s at his weakest and most lustful and needy to feel Aoi against him.  
  
“You’re a bitch,” Uruha’s growling, and it makes Aoi laugh for the first time today, his voice light-sounding and soft as it rings through the air. Aoi’s tossing his hair to the back, raising his arms to run his hands through them delicately, and he doesn’t miss the way Uruha goes momentarily speechless at the sight of Aoi before him, like this. Aoi’s always known he can play his seduction value up when he’s in the presence of Uruha; he’s exactly the man’s ideal type, and frankly, it’s become a game to see how much he can tease the older man until he breaks.  
  
“I never get angry at you,” Aoi mimics, in a sweet voice, blinking up innocently at Uruha underneath his long luscious lashes. “Why are you _so_ angry with me?” He’s pursing his lips, biting against them erotically, playing up his innocence, and the way Uruha’s eyes trail over him in that deprived stare; Aoi knows the other man’s just about to hit his breaking point. Uruha’s breathing heavily in the silence, watching him, and _really_ , Aoi forgets just how much of a trained fighter Uruha is, just like him, until it’s at times like these, when Aoi’s playing with him, that Uruha truly demonstrates his powers over Aoi.  
  
In the next moment, Uruha cleverly locks Aoi into his arms, a hand fastened tightly around the assassin’s waist, with the other hand slapped over Aoi’s vile mouth, and the delicious muffled moan Aoi makes as a protest doesn’t help his cause, _at all_.  
  
“You’re right, I’m angry,” Uruha grits his teeth, saying, his lips hovering just above Aoi’s pierced ear. Aoi can’t move when he’s trapped like this, he knows, and the danger it presents to him gives him _such_ an adrenaline rush he’s turned on. He still resists, anyway, just to annoy Uruha, but each time he moves, Uruha only pushes him back further against him, and the way Aoi’s ass keeps grinding back into Uruha’s crotch is _so_ inappropriate, and _so_ dirty. Aoi can feel distinctly Uruha’s hardening erection underneath his tight pants, and with each grind he can feel Uruha getting harder; he can tell Uruha’s losing it bit by bit.  
  
“Your reflexes are quick,” Uruha repeats, his tone dropping threateningly low, and it makes Aoi shiver in his hold, his eyes briefly fluttering shut at Uruha’s whisper. “But I’m _quicker_.” And then he’s casually throwing Aoi’s weight onto the bed, making sure he pins the assassin down by his wrists before he can even think to make another move. Aoi knows Uruha frequently does this – holds him down with just his raw strength just to emphasize on how easily and readily Uruha can break him, and really, Aoi should be frightened, but he’s lived his whole life in danger, and it’s sickening how much of a delicious rush this overpowering show of dominance and control can make him feel.  
  
Uruha’s upon him in a second, his body climbing atop Aoi’s hungrily, and his neck is bending down quickly, his lips savagely reaching down to give bruising kisses to the side of Aoi’s neck. Aoi’s closing his eyes with a soft moan, and even as his body squirms and shudders underneath Uruha’s touch, the man still doesn’t let go of him, still pins the sides of his wrists down tightly to the bed with his own hands. Only Uruha can make Aoi feel so delicate, so weak like this, and Aoi thinks no one will see this side of him but Uruha; because Aoi’s usually so domineering, so bloodthirsty in the way he kills and fights. And here he was, allowing Uruha to do the exact same thing to him, that Aoi’s always done to every other person who crosses his way.  
  
“Your animalistic urges are showing again,” Aoi taunts, laughing, but then Uruha’s easing his clothed erection in between Aoi’s legs, and the assassin’s shamelessly whimpering at the contact, his own thighs falling apart to better accommodate his boss, unconsciously so ready to be taken and fucked by Uruha already. Uruha makes a quiet groan as he grinds against Aoi gently, his pace starting off slow, his mouth descending upon Aoi’s skin once more, extending his teeth to begin making possessive love marks against his lover’s body.  
  
“Have I ever told you how fucking hot you look, blood-stained and all?” Uruha’s whispering against his skin, his lips kissing sweetly the little remnants of blood left on Aoi’s chest. Aoi’s always been so sexy with his slim figure alone, but _add_ the fact that he knows how to work a gun, kill people with a knife, and is extremely ruthless in the way he deals with people who offend him; Uruha finds Aoi all too desirable, especially in moments like these, where it’s been a long night of killings and Aoi’s all messed up, covered in dirty blood, evidence that he’s been in power for too long, and now _needs_ Uruha to teach him a lesson and show him whose power he’s under instead.  
  
Aoi’s gasping at Uruha’s words, his nipples slowly erecting in the cold hard air, and combined with the feeling of Uruha humping against him like an animal, his teeth biting Aoi’s skin ravenously and his strong arms restraining Aoi’s own hands; Aoi’s too turned on to think, his head clouded with thoughts of needing to be fucked hard into the mattress already.  
  
The air is thick and heavy, and the whole room is reeking of their sweat, dried blood and Uruha’s cologne, making the heat too unbearable for Aoi. His eyes are gazing to his still clothed lover, still dressed in a long buttoned up shirt with a tie and belted pants, and Aoi has half a mind to rip Uruha’s clothes into bits.  
  
“Kiss me,” Aoi mewls poutingly, and he _knows_ Uruha will listen to him, will want to pleasure him, will want to do what he wants. Uruha’s slowly leaning his head up, planting kisses back up Aoi’s neck and finally to his lips, and as he tenderly brings Aoi into a hot, passionate kiss, he’s mildly distracted as Aoi’s tongue expertly meets his, catching his tongue with such force Uruha’s breath is almost taken away. Uruha _hates_ it when Aoi tries to dominate him like this, and so as he avidly kisses Aoi back and refuses to give him control, he’s slightly releasing the pressure he’s applying against Aoi’s wrists by the side, and it’s just enough for Aoi to slip under and roll over Uruha, catching him by his body and pinning him down to the bed instead. It takes a moment for Uruha to register what’s going on because he’s still lost in their kiss; but then Aoi’s holding him by his tie warningly, a look of mischief on his face, and Uruha’s eyes narrow as they look to Aoi’s above him.  
  
“Sneaky little bitch,” Uruha growls, but Aoi doesn’t pay heed to that. His skilled fingers are deftly unloosening the tie around Uruha’s neck and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt, and he’s eagerly trailing kisses down Uruha’s sweaty chest, lips taking time to savour Uruha’s body when he’s like this. Unlike Aoi, Uruha’s body is more built than it is slender, and Aoi’s quite certain no other mafia boss is like this, young and ripped and so fucking _hot_.  
  
“Oh god, I want to suck your cock,” Aoi moans out, unable to wait already, his head filled with thoughts of wanting to give pleasure and receive pleasure and not do painstaking foreplay like this anymore. He’s running his hands impatiently down the front of Uruha’s pants, loosening his belt and unzipping the top of his pants, pulling it hastily down Uruha’s front. Uruha’s cock twitches at the sight of Aoi, so excited for him, and he doesn’t complain as Aoi finally pushes the offending materials down and pulls out Uruha’s erection, lips almost salivating at the thought of wanting to pleasure it already.  
  
Aoi hums softly, eyes shutting as he leans down to dart his tongue out along Uruha’s inner thigh, and he begins kissing and licking at Uruha’s pelvic bone, sending Uruha trembling; the man’s chest slowly rises up and down as Aoi’s tongue gets closer and closer to his cock, and as Aoi’s warm, moist mouth finally swallows Uruha’s member as a whole, Uruha’s groaning loudly in satisfaction, hips bucking up wantingly for Aoi to receive more of him, and _deeper_.  
  
“ _God_ , you’re always such a slut,” Uruha’s breathing out, watching as his favourite assassin made the _most_ lewd face as he deep throated Uruha’s cock, mouth moaning as Uruha’s pre-cum slid right down his throat, as if Uruha’s very cock and his cum was to be his treat after being such a good pet for the day. Aoi’s dark hair falls sensually against his face as he begins sliding Uruha’s cock in and out of his mouth, unable to get enough of it, keeping his eyes close as he sucks Uruha’s length from base to tip. Uruha’s gripping the sheets in pleasure, low noises of pleasure escaping him with each lick, and _really,_ it should be illegal for Aoi to be such a good cocksucker, when he’s already so good at everything else he does.  
  
Uruh pants quietly in the silence, watching as Aoi’s head diligently bobs against his cock, cheeks hollowing and creating the perfect pink blush against his face at the same time. Aoi’s slightly panting himself, working his tongue faster to please his lover, and he raises a few fingers to tuck his fallen hair back behind his ears, giving Uruha a clean and nice view of Aoi’s debauched face as he obediently sucks onto Uruha’s cock. Uruha can practically cum like this, with his cock constantly disappearing in and out of Aoi’s whore mouth, his plump lips and skillful tongue working wonders against his shaft. Aoi’s own cock is straining against his own pants at the sight of Uruha weak like this, underneath Aoi’s tongue, knowing that only Aoi himself could pleasure Uruha so fulfillingly like this.  
  
Aoi’s increasing his pace faster and faster, trailing his tongue expertly along his cock, hoping it’ll be enough for Uruha to cum right into his mouth, but Uruha doesn’t allow that to happen, and he’s dragging Aoi up by his hair in a moment, bringing him level up to his face. Aoi makes a small whine as Uruha harshly pulls him off his cock, and he’s pouting as his lover wraps his arms around him.  
  
“Mmm, no, I don’t want that, honey,” Uruha’s whispering, hands tugging at Aoi’s hair. Aoi winces at the contact, eyes confusedly looking to Uruha for what he wants. Uruha’s laughing, his hands travelling down Aoi’s back, pushing Aoi’s own pants down himself. “I want to strip you. And then I want to fuck you. From behind. Got it?”  
  
Aoi’s too eager to put his words into plan. He crawls atop Uruha’s thighs, pulling at his own pants, and he’s absolutely quick in the way he strips himself before Uruha, hips wriggling as he tosses his own pants off himself. The clothes are discarded onto the floor swiftly, with Aoi’s hands gripping the sides of Uruha’s head, noisily sinking his mouth against Uruha’s own one. The two engage heatedly in a messy kiss, saliva dripping down their lips, and Uruha likes how he can taste himself upon Aoi’s tongue, mixed with salty bits of sweat and pre-cum. They’re completely dirty, messy, Aoi still smells of dried blood, and their erections are begging to be released. Uruha doesn’t have to think when he grabs at Aoi’s hair and pushes him down against the bed, face down, his ass thrust high in the air. Uruha’s cock is leaking, and he wants it inside of Aoi, _now_.  
  
“Please,” Aoi’s whimpering, his mouth almost muffled as he struggles to speak against the sheets. It’s almost shameful, how this highly trained killer is reduced to a mewling mess in bed like this, but Aoi doesn’t care, Aoi wants to be controlled and dominated and fucked like the submissive he really is. Uruha’s hand is sliding down his pale back, admiring the many bruises and small cuts formed on his white-washed skin, fresh from their fight from before, and he’s in love with the way the bruises are so evident, so clear, so pink and blue and a stark contrast to Aoi’s milky white skin.  
  
“I bet when those men were fighting you,” Uruha says, thoughtfully, his mouth in a cruel smirk. “They were thinking about fucking you. They were looking at your slim thighs and gauging just how easily their cocks can fuck right in between them.” Aoi’s moaning at that, his ass unconsciously thrusting up higher, moving back and still waiting for Uruha to grace him with his cock. Uruha’s laughing, amused by how sluttish Aoi really is in bed, and his hands are moving up to his ass, slapping them like Aoi deserved them. “Really, Aoi. I think that’s the only reason you win all these fights. All these men – they can’t take their eyes off your body. Your waist, your hips, your fucking thighs. I bet my own men want to fuck you, too. If I hadn’t claimed you long ago, you would be left being a whore to them.”  
  
“Stop being a fucking tease,” Aoi’s hissing, body painfully still waiting for his release. He’s almost sobbing, and he has half a mind to get up and pin Uruha down and ride himself voraciously upon Uruha’s cock, until he cums over and over and gets all the pleasure he deserves in the world. Uruha’s grinning, almost as if he’s reading Aoi’s thoughts, and he’s licking at his fingers a little, palming his already wet cock. He’s groaning as he takes a hold of his shaft, and as he nears himself to Aoi’s sweet hole and spreads the assassin’s thighs further apart, he plunges his cock in quickly, earning himself a wanton cry from Aoi immediately.  
  
“Oh… _oh…_ Uruha…” Aoi’s staggering moans echo around the room as Uruha begins taking Aoi’s ass into his hands and fucking his cock into it at a steady momentum, building up his pace faster and faster with every other thrust that sends Aoi crying out loud. His cock goes deeper and deeper in with each plunge, and incoherent words of pleasure begin slipping out of the fucked assassin as a result. “ _Deep…_ good… _fuck_ … so full… _too hot_ …!”  
  
Uruha’s shuddering at how good Aoi feels, muscles squeezing around his cock like this, and he’s becoming almost violent in the way he fucks into Aoi, like an animal in heat, wanting to feel more of Aoi’s friction, wanting to hear more of Aoi’s sex noises. He’s groaning Aoi’s name over and over, hands roughly manhandling Aoi’s hips as he rams Aoi’s body back against him over and over, and Aoi has little to no choice to go with the flow, his petite body completely in Uruha’s control. Uruha closes his eyes, sweat running down his face anxiously as he mercilessly slams into Aoi again and again, earning himself screams from the assassin this time.  
  
“Oh… _fuck…_ yes! Uruha! Fuck! Right there… _please_ … Harder!”  
  
Oh, god, _fuck_. He loved hearing Aoi so turned on for him, and he loved it the most when Aoi became so demanding in terms of his pleasure. Uruha’s panting deeply now, fucking Aoi so furiously there’s nothing but the sounds of their flesh slapping against skin after skin in the silence. Aoi’s noisily moaning Uruha’s name so _vulgarly_ Uruha wishes Aoi called his name like that all the time; and as Uruha reaches a hand down to begin jerking at Aoi’s trembling cock, he’s thrusting forcefully into Aoi from behind again, sending Aoi sobbing in pleasure.  
  
Uruha knew he was close; and his movements only got more erratic as he recognized that fact. He’s beginning to re-angle his thrusts, and he’s pushing Aoi down to the bed, leaning over on his side, lifting his leg higher up, sending Aoi plummeting down against his cock even more vigorously. Aoi’s desperate and messy in his movements as he tries to steady himself – he’s holding onto the soft pillows nearby as Uruha grips the sides of Aoi’s arms tightly, not intending to release him until they were both done and over with their climax. Uruha must be hitting right into Aoi’s sensitive spots because Aoi’s cries were starting to no longer make sense; and as Uruha slammed into him once more with such bruising force he must have filled Aoi entirely up; Aoi’s cursing, screaming so loudly Uruha’s certain their neighbours must have heard them.  
  
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_! Fuck, oh _god, so good,_ Uruha...!”  
  
Aoi makes a total mess of himself, spilling all over his stomach and thighs, and his orgasm sends a delicious muscle spasm around Uruha’s very cock itself. Uruha continues fucking Aoi ruthlessly, still relishing in Aoi’s very tight muscles that seemed to be rewarding him for Aoi’s pleasure, and as he looks at his lover, completely ruined and violated in spurts of cum and sweat and blood, Uruha’s moaning as he gives in to his own release, hands roughly gripping Aoi and making sure Aoi stays as he cums right inside of Aoi’s asshole.  
  
“That’s what you get for being such a whore,” Uruha groans, his cock shuddering and leaking all his cum right inside of Aoi. Aoi’s whimpering softly in his grasp, innocently looking up to Uruha through cracked eyelids, and Uruha’s immediately pulling him into an aroused kiss, fingers clawing savagely at Aoi’s hair, relishing in how fragile and small Aoi feels in his arms.  
  
“You’re such a brute,” Aoi whines, after pulling apart, and his lips are bruised from the effects of Uruha’s kiss. Uruha’s grinning to him with a dazed smile, strong arms hugging Aoi to him and unwilling to let him go.  
  
“Still angry with me?” Uruha teases, hands running down Aoi’s dirtied body and admiring the way Aoi looks when he’s debauched like this. It’s amazing how they’ve just had sex, and yet just looking at Aoi like this, Uruha feels like he’s already ready to have another second go with him. “You never told me the reason why, you know.”  
  
Aoi looks to him, sulking, then lays his head down cutely against Uruha’s broad chest. “You didn’t want to let me go today. It pissed me off. Do you think I’m too weak to defend myself anymore?”  
  
Uruha’s lips part into an amused smile, his hands moving up to caress at Aoi’s hair lovingly. “It’s about that? I thought we talked about it. I don’t want you to go out and potentially endanger yourself anymore; it’s different now, because you’re with me. You’re not just some assassin anymore.”  
  
“I still kick pretty good ass,” Aoi huffs, adamant on Uruha not looking down on him. Seriously. Uruha could get pretty dense sometimes, despite him being some rich mafia leader or something – Aoi could care less. “You know I do. I took out more men than anyone ever did today. Plus, I kick _your_ ass.”  
  
Uruha can’t help but chuckle at Aoi’s resistance to him. Aoi was really as stubborn as a mule, wasn’t he? “Do you really? Last I recall, I was dumping you into this bed and fucking you with you crying out my na-”  
  
“Shut up,” Aoi says, and he’s pulling away from Uruha in the next moment, clearly still crossed with his actions from before. “Tell me you’ll let me go on further missions and I’ll let you fuck me a second round.” He blows at his manicured nails, and raises his hand, admiring them momentarily in the air. “Maybe. I don’t know. Do it before I change my mind.”  
  
Uruha’s too busy shaking his head and laughing to himself – Aoi was lucky Uruha loved him that much.  
  
“OK, but only if you let me do it for five more rounds,” Uruha says, putting on a serious face, eyeing Aoi in a serious tone. “Is that a deal?”  
  
Aoi looks to him, gawking, with a face of disbelief. “You can’t be serio-”  
  
But Uruha’s already tackling him into the pillows, catching Aoi’s mouth with his, bringing him into a hot, romantic kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been craving violent PWPs these days... as usual, this plot has a backstory that I'm too lazy to write, but I still hope you liked it!


End file.
